


i'm fine if you're by my side

by poisonrationalitie



Series: Harry Potter Expanded Universe [30]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Making Out, Past Character Death, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 15:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: Teddy and Victoire go through a haunted house.





	i'm fine if you're by my side

It was a particularly warm Autumn, everyone agreed. In spite of it already being October, sweat could still be found pooling in adolescent armpits and in two-day-old socks. The sun swelled in the afternoon, and many sought refuge in the Three Broomsticks, armed with cool food and icy drinks. Many more, however, were staking a claim in the line for the Hogsmeade Haunted House.

Victoire Weasley was one of them. She was also one of few that managed to don a scarf, thanks to her familiarity with both Cornish and French summers. Having been able to withstand the heat of lunchtime, she’d kept her spot in the line and was now close to the front of the line. She adjusted her Ravenclaw scarf, scanning the crowd for sight of a particular blue-haired boy. Teddy was supposed to return with drinks for the pair of them, and had left half hour or so ago. Her foot tapped. There were only four groups ahead of her.

Just as she thought that, the line shuffled forward. Victoire fiddled with one of her golden bracelets that her father had bought her back from a visit to the U.A.E. It was rather plain, but she kept it on her wrist nearly at all times. Someone shrieked. She jerked, taken aback. Then she realised it had come from inside the haunted house. Her father and aunts and uncles referred to it as the Shrieking Shack, as it had apparently been known when they were in school, but these days it was purchased and refurbished.

“Victoire!” Teddy ducked through the crowds with a bright grin. He held two steaming take-away cups. “I was worried you’d already gone in.”

“Very nearly,” she said, and stood on tip-toe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She took the cup between her hands, and sipped. It was lukewarm at best, and she wrinkled her nose. “Huh. New barista?”

“Maybe,” said Teddy. “Godric, Vic, you should’ve seen how crowded it was.” He made a mock-pout. “They’d run out of gingerbread biscuits.”

“Oh, no,” Victoire responded, putting one hand to her mouth, returning his make-believe horror. “My poor Teddy. How will you ever cope?”

There was a commotion in front of them, and a trio of third years ducked under the railings, one of them quite pale, and another trembling. “Ah, they don’t know what they’re in for.” Teddy shook his head. “I reckon the Three Broomsticks is scarier right now than this will be.”

“Last year it wasn’t half bad,” Victoire said, putting one hand on her hip. “I swear, that goblin nearly made you  _ shit  _ yourself.”

“I know it’s bad, but they give me the willies,” Teddy said, half-laughing. “People severely underestimate them. They’re frightening because they’re so intelligent, and also, like, they’re right, you know. And there’s been goblin rebellions before, and people have  _ died. _ ”

“I don’t think they’ll be allowed to have goblins in there this year,” she said, taking another sip of the poorly-made coffee. “Not after all the stink after that article last year. Dad says they were fuming.”

The next group entered. Now Teddy and Victoire were at the front of the line. A small gate kept them from entering too soon. They were maybe seven feet away from the actual front door of the former house, which was where the real fun - or thrill, in the sign’s words - began. A pimple-faced man in his early twenties operated a small booth nearby. The shack’s windows were still boarded up, though now a faint glow seeped through them. The door swung shut on the most recent group, and the man left his post, heading towards them. 

“Eleven sickles, please,” he said, sounding bored. Victoire dug her hand into the pocket of her skirt (there was a reason it was her favourite) and retrieved her purse, in which she found a galleon for him and asked for change. Teddy’s money came from a variety of pockets and a spare in his sock.

“I can pay for it,” she told him, frowning.

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s cool. Gran sent me my allowance earlier this week. I’ve just lost it all.”

“Really, I don’t mind.”

“Got it!” The pimply man counted the coins. Victoire noted his nametag, which identified him as ‘Carl’. 

“Righto,” he said, depositing the coins into a small bag. “Now, both of you understand that we are not responsible for any injury or death that may occur during your time in the Hogsmeade Haunted House. You enter at your own risk. In case of a fire, you are permitted to use your wand to send green sparks even if underage - we have this license -and I will be with you right away to escort you out and to put out the fire. You can try to put it out if you want, but again, if you die it’s not on me.” Victoire raised her eyebrows, and wondered if it would even be worth calling Carl in the case of a fire. There was no light in his eyes. She nudged Teddy, and saw him smile out of the corner of her eye. “Do not assault anyone or anything you see inside. Keep walking. Follow the pathway. Touch stuff, but don’t try to take it, they’re all equipped with anti-theft charms and you’ll be in for a nasty shock. Don’t use your wand. Agreed?”

“Yes,” she answered, but Carl was already shuffling back to his sad little booth. It was wooden and enclosed, keeping him safe from the elements, and had a small bench with a till and a sign that said ‘CHEQUES NOT ACCEPTED’. She tossed her head to look at Teddy. His face was shifting, screwed up in concentration. Firstly, his skin broke out into pimples, and then his nose elongated. His chin became wider, and the roots of his hair turned from their customary turquoise to a mousy brown.

“If you die,” Teddy said, lowering his voice, “it’s not on me.” The corners of Victoire’s lips twitched, and her stomach contracted quickly, laughter bubbling inside her. 

“Carrrl,” she said, elongating the sounds so it sounded like ‘Carol’. 

“Agreed?” Teddy said, pushing out his lips and bringing his brows down. Victoire’s nose scrunched as she laughed, her eyes nearly closing.

“Oh my Godric,” she said, between laughs. “Stop, he’ll see you.”

“Not. On. Me,” Teddy repeated, deadpan. 

“Next!” the real Carl called out. Victoire froze, her eyes wide, and Teddy pulled a face, poking out his tongue. Quickly, he shifted back. The gate swung open with a slight  _ creak,  _ and they were free to advance into the haunted house. Victoire drained the last of her coffee quickly, and chucked it into the small bin by the door. The door itself was covered with fake spider-webs, arranged with permanent sticking charms. She looked at Teddy. He shrugged and put his hand on the handle, and twisted. She’d come with her friends in her third year, and with Teddy the year before. Everyone agreed that the previous two years had been lackluster, but this year it came with the promise of a renovation.

“Ready?” he asked her.

“If you are,” she said, quirking her brows in a challenge. Teddy smirked, and twisted the handle. The door swung open, and then there was an over-pronounced  _ creak  _ that Victoire would’ve wagered was the product of a spell cast by one of the workers hiding within the house. The door slammed shut. The young couple was immersed in complete darkness. She wasn’t afraid, but she still reached her hand out. Teddy took it. His palms were warm and his grip firm. 

“Night vision?” she whispered. It just felt like a whispering time. He shrugged - she sensed the movement

“Not well practised in it,” he said. His hand squeezed hers tighter, and there was a teeny grunt. Victoire peered out into the darkness. Her eyes still weren’t adjusting. She reached one hand out, stomach twisting.  _ Godric, please don’t let me touch someone.  _ Her palm hit something firm. Metal. Not too cold, but.

“It’s an enchantment,” Teddy said. “I’ve widened my pupils the best I can, and they should be adjusting anyway, but it’s still pitch black. I read about it in one of the Auror books.” Her boyfriend was hoping to be accepted to the Auror Academy when he left school, and between studying for his N.E.W.Ts and Head Boy duties, he made the time to do extra research.

“Lovely,” Victoire said, rather feeling it was the exact opposite. She wasn’t a little girl, and she wasn’t frightened of the  _ dark _ , per say - but the things that could be within it were frightening. Logically, she knew they wouldn’t risk anything really dangerous for a stupid Haunted House. The paperwork alone would be enough to deter anyone, let alone the moral qualms. But she had also learned a lot from the stories that came out about her father’s particular line of work and the things he had seen sneak into the dark. She ran her hand over the metal and found canvas beneath her fingertips. “This is a painting,” she said. “To my right. So-” she patted around the frame and found the plaster. “One wall here. We can follow it round. Like that maze myth.” It had been one of her dad’s favourites. He always liked myths. No wonder he’d become a cursebreaker - or as Dom said, ‘tomb raider’.

“You’re right to keep on it?” Teddy asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. 

“Yes,” she said. She put the edge of her hand against the wall, and took a step forwards uncertainly. One-by-one, they walked down the hallway, looking unseeingly into the house. She inhaled sharply as her fingers touched something sticky.

“You right?”

“Eugh. Think so.” Teddy yelped. His hand let go of hers. She spun, throwing her arms out, trying to touch him. Victoire met air. “Teddy?” she asked. “Teddy!” If it had been James or Fred, she wouldn’t have worried so much. It would’ve been like them to stay quiet. She held her arms out as wide as she could, and didn’t touch the walls, or Teddy. Her eyes burned, and she shut them.  _ Don’t be stupid. Don’t cry. It’s ages thirteen and up, they’re not killing anyone in here. _

Wobbly, she crouched down. At least she knew which way was up. She just hoped the floor wasn’t too dirty. How many kids had walked in gunk? Victoire screwed her nose up, and crawled across the floor. She’d been in the dark a lot, but this was a complete lack of light, of anything. Her sight was gone entirely. Her hand curled around a lump on the floor. She tugged. Whatever it was came loose. Her mind whirred away, thinking critically about what she had to do. Her priority was finding Teddy. She knew he wouldn’t just disappear on her - and while her sight was masked, her other senses were heightened. The house was silent apart from her breaths.

Mentally, she ran through the possible explanations. Either one of the workers had been hiding nearby and apparated him to another part of the house, though she hadn’t heard the signature  _ crack  _ of apparition, or there had been a small portkey that Teddy had accidentally touched. Either way, he wasn’t here. She tossed the object in her hand in a random direction. It hit something solid to her left. Her freckled nose scrunched as she tried to figure out how far it was. Slowly, she crawled in that direction, staying low to the ground.

“Little girl!” It was a shrill voice. Instinctively, Victoire flattened herself to the ground. Her heart pounded. Her hands were clammy. “Little girl!”  _ It’s a haunted house. They’re trying to scare you.  _ “Where’s your boyfriend?” It sounded like a taunt. Despite the fear curling in her stomach, she managed to laugh. Maybe it would’ve annoyed one of those couples that never bothered to decide if they were together or not. While the pair didn’t advertise it, exactly, to their extended family, they both knew where they stood. She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to return the taunt. It would only get her into more trouble. 

She found another wall, and stood up, leaning against it and praying it didn’t go back the way they’d come. She didn’t know how long she stumbled through the darkness for, shoving the wall every so often in hope it would give way. The walls were only weak, after all, not part of the original shack; all that was left of the original was the exterior. Eventually, something gave way, and she went through a flapped door. 

“Victoire!” Her feet left the ground and she gasped. Teddy held her tightly. “I couldn’t go back through the flap, and I tried yelling - it must be soundproofed.”

“I’d say so.” The light was still dim, but she could make out his shape here. They were in what looked like an old bedroom, with a railing around the bed. “Portkey?”

“Onto the bed,” he confirmed. “Then someone dressed as a Death Eater popped out and threw a dungbomb. I think that’s all for this room.”

“That seems disrespectful,” Victoire said.

“They say ‘edgy’ is the new funny,” Teddy said. Victoire gave him a look. “No, I know it’s not funny. I’m just - nevermind.”

“Do you know how to get out of this room?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. He nodded, and offered his hand, though she didn’t take it. She followed him to a torn wallpaper panel. He lifted it, and she ducked beneath. 

A small carriage, that rather resembled a sleigh with wheels and painted black, was the only thing in this room. The rest was empty, windows boarded up, wooden floorboards covered in dust. 

“Ghost train,” Teddy said, “or something. S’pose we get in?”

“Yeah,” Victoire said. It was only small, and when she sat inside, her knees were against her chest. She wasn’t sure how they expected beaters to get in. Teddy brushed against her side, and his palm was face up. She pursed her lips and took his hand. “I didn’t think the house was big enough for all this.”

“Mm,” Teddy said. “I think the first room, in all the darkness was the worst.” Wind whipped around the room, and the carriage began to roll forwards. It headed towards the wall, but as expected, the door had just been disillusioned. 

Someone screamed. A ‘spattergroit victim’ ran out and jumped in front of the carriage. Victoire wrapped her arm around Teddy’s. As the carriage came closer to the person, they disappeared with a  _ crack.  _ No sooner had they disappeared than a large ghoul came out of a closet. 

“I hope that’s not a metaphor,” Victoire said. The ghoul howled, and then was pushed to the side by something. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling, and she covered her face with her free hand as they went through them. 

“I heard there’s boggarts in here,” Teddy told her, ducking as a swarm of bats flew overhead. Victoire eyed the creatures, slightly disappointed that the dark room appeared to have been the worst part.

“We did those in third year,” she said, ever the rational one.

“I still don’t fancy seeing my worst fear,” Teddy said, rubbing circles against her skin with his thumb. “Make sure I don’t see them?”

“Teddy,” she said, smiling despite herself. He curled one hand behind her neck and she leaned in. The pressure of his lips made her shudder. Since their embarrassment the previous year at the Cup, and her dad’s ban on dating, their time together had been fairly limited. Especially considering both of them had major exams coming up and were in positions of authority. She melted in his arms, yielding to his kisses. This was  _ so  _ much better than making out in a broom cupboard. 

_ “We hate you,”  _ it was a masculine voice. Teddy stiffened, and pulled back, eyes wide. Victoire looked around, and spotted a blurry figure that resembled Teddy’s father in the photographs she’d seen. So the boggart rumour was true. “ _ We died for you and you do nothing in return, you’re-” _

“Look at me,” she said, letting go off his hand and grabbing his face, pulling him closer. Their lips met once more, and she pushed herself onto him, trying to drown out the voices of his boggart-parents. He opened his mouth and their tongues met. Her eyes goggled. She still wasn’t used to that wet feeling. But it was nice.The carriage jolted. They rounded a corner and he leaned back. Her face was over his, and her pulse raced. 

“ _ Fucking slut.” _ She sat up straight, tearing her lips off his.  _ “Look at you. You want it, don’t you? You’re begging. _ ” Her hands began to tremble. Her skin crawled. Suddenly, she wanted as far from Teddy as possible. From any guy. It was a stupid fear, maybe, but she wasn’t stupid. It had been a harder fear to dispel than others, like spiders or snakes. The statistics didn’t lie, especially for those with veela blood. Not that she had an abundance of it, but the touch was enough to heighten everything. 

“Fuck off,” Teddy said. “He can’t get you, Vic.”  _ Be logical. Be logical. Be logical. It’s a boggart. It can’t get you.  _ She couldn’t look away. The carriage rolled on, through another flap. The course seemed to come to an end. Teddy helped her out of the carriage, touching her only very gently. “Are you okay?” She shut her eyes.  _ It’s Teddy. He won’t hurt you.  _ She nodded, and spread her arms wide. He pulled her into a hug. 

“ _ It’s not over yet, my pretties!” BANG!  _ Victoire jumped at the sound. A man came running out, holding a mechanical object that trembled. The noise was deafening. Blood was splattered across his face. “I’m a muggle cane saw murderer!” the man yelled. He raised the saw above his head, and grinned.

“Let’s go!” Victoire said, voice squeaky. She grabbed Teddy’s hand. The pair ran through an archway. Blood - or whatever they were passing as blood - fell from the roof, only narrowly missing them, and coating the floor. Footsteps echoed through the corridor. She hadn’t expected this. There was a door, at the end. Teddy ripped it open. She hit her shoulder on the way out.

Warmth rushed over her. They were back in the sunlight. It hurt her eyes. The door slammed shut. Teddy’s hand was still in hers.

“We made it,” he said. “What do you think? Better than last year?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And you have to come with me next year. Maybe we can get a better snog in.”


End file.
